Deliverance (Knights of Black Swan Book 12) by Victoria Danann (9)

 

 

CHAPTER Eleven SUMMIT

 

Sixt and Harm were not just surprised when RSVPs began rushing in. Some came by way of electronic private message. Some responded to Harm’s method.

When one of them heard a tapping, they would open the window to allow the raven to hop in and drop a small note, rolled, and tied with black satin ribbon.

“This answers the question of how many of us have survived,” Harm said. “What’s the count?”

“Thirty-seven coming. Eleven more say they can’t make it this time, but stay in touch.”

“How many females?” Harm looked over her shoulder.

Sixt smiled. “One track mind. Twenty-two females. Not counting me.” He grinned. “Before you get too excited, we haven’t asked how many of those are attached.”

His grin fell. “That’s true. We should have included a poll.”

She laughed. “No. We should not have included a poll.” She showed him the handwritten list. “However…”

“However what?”

“I might be able to find out.”

“How?” Harm was as eager as a teenage human.

“In addition to you, Deliverance, myself, and the staff, I can house five guests at my house there. The others will stay at hotels. I can discreetly ask who will be traveling alone and needs single accommodations.”

“Your ingenuity amazes me.”

“I’m getting addicted to your praise.”

“There are worse things.”

“I know.”

“So you’re beautiful, brilliant, and sneaky. I’m looking for a mate just like you, but not related.”

“You could do worse.”

“I know. Shame the demon doesn’t have a chance to get to know you as a person and not a, um…”

“Well, that’s not going to happen, is it?”

“Probably not now.”

“Now,” she said absently.

“What do you mean ‘now’?”

“Ashes. She keeps saying ‘now’ about the demon. I don’t know what it means. She likes Deliverance, but doesn’t like this arrangement. I think.”

“Smart. This thing with the demon. It’s like self-sabotage. I worry about you.”

“Worry about yourself, lover boy.” She turned back to the desk. “I’ll let you know how many say they’re coming alone and I’ll extend invitations to the unattached females to stay at the house.”

Harm raised his arms in victory. “Yes! It’ll be like The Bachelor. Tell the Aspen florist to get the roses ready.”

“You better calm down, brother. Just because you’re looking for a mate doesn’t mean others are. Some people might just be looking for some good clean fun.”

He smiled broadly. “There’s value in every offering and I wouldn’t turn it down. Assuming it’s being offered by the right person.”

“And by right person, you mean…”

“Fair skin. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Long legs.”

“I’m waiting to hear about the qualities you’re looking for. You make it sound like you’re shopping for a car. I want this exterior, this interior, these wheels…”

“Sixt. You sound like a romantic.”

“You sound like you’re more interested in husbandry, in breeding witches, than in finding a companion. You don’t believe in love, Harm?”

“I do. I just think it’s as easy to love someone with fair skin, dark hair, blue eyes, and long legs.”

“Like I said, maybe you need to start a matchmaker website for witches.”

He smiled agreeably. “You’re joking, but I’d consider it. Let’s see if this works out first. Chemistry over prose. Any day.”

 

Deliverance was playing Jakab on Seskatoon with a sage demon when Sixt called. He sighed deeply. “Sorry. I have to go. Don’t touch the board or I’ll know and I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Whatever,” said the sage demon.

As Deliverance sped through the passes he remembered the exchange with Sixt. Everybody really did say ‘whatever’.

She was putting some sort of cheesy lobster thing on her plate when he arrived in the kitchen. “You called?”

She’d been busy with Harm for four days and nights. She looked over at him and he realized, for the first time, that she never startled at an unannounced appearance.

“I did. I’d like your company tonight.”

“Brother tired of you?”

“You could say that,” she answered without missing a beat. “Although he didn’t say what he’s doing tonight, I’d give odds it has something to do with tomcatting.”

“You mean he’s horny.”

She nodded toward the chair with no place setting, giving a silent suggestion that the demon take a seat. “You could say that if you preferred vulgarity.”

He grinned. “It just so happens that I do prefer vulgarity. For one thing it simplifies matters. Everybody says exactly what they mean instead of trying to disguise it with innuendo and euphemism.”

“Innuendo and euphemism,” she repeated. “Very fine words for someone promoting simplicity.”

“I have my moments.”

“I’m sure you do. Is tonight one of the nights you’d like wine?” She held the bottle ready to pour into an extra glass, remembering that he’d said he imbibed occasionally.

He gave her a smile so stunning it almost made her take a step backward from the force of its beauty and the power of its surprise. “Sure. Why shouldn’t tonight be the night?”

“Very well,” she said when she recovered the ability to speak. “Tell me when to stop.”

When the glass was half full, he said, “That’s good. You don’t want to impair my judgment.”

“Why’s that? What happens when your judgment is impaired?”

“I accidentally set things on fire.”

Without a word she took the wine glass she’d just filled for the demon and emptied it in the sink. As he laughed silently, she said, “Better safe than sorry.”

As she returned to her chair, she watched in fascination as he lit the two tapers with his index finger. “Fire is better when it’s deliberate. Don’t you think?”

She nodded. “Completely agree. So what have you done with yourself while you’ve been on leave the past few days?”

Deliverance debated rushing his change of tone, thinking that if he was too nice too soon it would cause the witch to suspect him of underhanded trickery. “My time away is my business, but since you asked so sweetly, I will tell you one thing. When you called I was playing a game with a friend in another dimension.”

“What kind of game?”

“Ummm. It’s kind of like chess, but the game pieces are alive and sometimes they have a mind of their own, which makes it far more unpredictable.”

She laughed. “I’ll bet.”

The demon didn’t appreciate the fact that Sixt had a throaty, somewhat sexy laugh. Or that her eyes sparkled in the candlelight when she was amused. Such thoughts were singularly unwelcome and not to be tolerated. Reminded of his mission, his hands curled into fists under the table, but he managed to hold an unwavering smile. The witch was none the wiser.

She told him all about the proposed summit in Aspen. “You can use your preferred method of transportation, of course.”

“Not a fan of the cold.”

“It’s still pre ski season.”

“But still cold.”

“It’s all about dressing for the weather. Would you like me to take you shopping? You’d be cute in a trapper hat.”

Cute?

“If you want to spend some of your quality time,” he put ‘quality time’ in air quotes’, which Sixt found adorable, “buying me clothes, when you know that I can manufacture clothing from air, it’s not for me to object.”

That was mulled over for less than two seconds before she was grinning at the thought. “That might be fun. Let’s do it tomorrow.”

He shrugged. “The last time I checked our contract your wish was my command. For four hours a day.”

Her smile fell. “Plus being here at night. You’re staying here tonight. Right?”

“If you say so.” He angled his head to the side ever so subtly. “Why do you care about that? If you’re not going to see me or talk to me, what difference does it make?”

She looked down at her wine glass. “Just does.”

“The nightmare? Does that happen often?”

She shrugged, but gave away nothing useful. “So, your granddaughter…” Sixt began, but then trailed off. “Are you married? Mated? Single? What?”

“I’m not mated.”

Sixt nodded. “Divorced?”

He looked the witch over for a few seconds, deciding whether he’d share or not. He decided it wouldn’t hurt for her to know the full extent of the damage she’d done.

“Rosie’s grandmother was a witch. She summoned me and I fell in love.” Sixt stopped eating and appeared to be holding her breath. “She took her life because I wasn’t able to be faithful.”

He paused to let the full impact of that penetrate.

Sixt had just realized that he had an even bigger grievance against her. Not only had she cursed him with an addiction, she was also to blame, apparently, for the demise of the demon’s beloved.

At length she spoke quietly. “So you raised a child on your own?”

Deliverance had been so certain that he was in the catbird seat of righteousness that the full frontal punch of truth almost knocked the wind out of him. He wasn’t perfectly innocent. It seemed that innocence was in short supply.

He cleared his throat after studying the grain in the table for a bit. “No. I… It’s hard for me to say this. Now that I know my daughter it’s unimaginable. But I abandoned her. At the time I was sick with grief, but that’s not a reason. It’s not even a good excuse.”

“But she forgave you.”

Deliverance raised his eyes. The witch gave every appearance of being genuinely concerned. She looked like she actually cared whether he’d been forgiven or not, but he knew better than most that appearances can be deceiving. It would take more than a look of sympathy to gain his trust. Even if he was motivated to give it. In the case at hand, he was not motivated. In fact, he was committed to arranging a memorable revenge, one that other demons would be talking about for some time.

It would take more than a show of warmth, a beautiful body, sparkling blue eyes, and hair that looked like fire when she sat near the window with sun coming in to dissuade him from his plan. It would take more than the appeal of a witch, who might be a virgin, but had managed her reality masterfully enough to accumulate notable wealth, power, self-assuredness, and a familiar of unknown origins. It would take more than a witch with a sense of humor, who’d developed a taste for fifties sit coms and hair bands.

Indeed, her ever-growing list of desirable attributes made him detest her all the more.

 

 

It was clear to Sixt that she and her brother, who was the mastermind and deserving of all the credit, had made something of a splash in the world of witches. It seemed that others, also fearful enough to remain hidden throughout the industrial revolution, were ready to make contact with their kind. It was too premature to use the word community, but hope in the shape of a dream for the future was beginning to form, together and separately, in the hearts and minds of the last two Lichterkettens.

Sixt fantasized about being able to meet for camaraderie along with an exchange of experiences, successes, failures, recipes, and the like.

Harm fantasized about love, though he’d never express it in those terms. He talked about the potential of finding a mate in ways that sometimes made Sixt cringe. But she suspected his unseemly regard for the fairer sex was a cover carefully constructed to hide a true romantic.

Refinement of the list had revealed that six unattached females would be attending. True to her word, Sixt invited the other five to stay at her chalet, which had, before she’d acquired it, won design awards and been featured in Architectural Digest.

As she stared at the names on the list she wondered why she didn’t take advantage of her vacation houses more often. The Aspen house could only be described as a palatial log house. The wood, inside and out, was stained in a semi-transparent cinnamon color. The windows were majestic featuring breathtaking views from every room. The ceilings were luxuriously high which added to the plush ambience of a modern day royal hunting lodge. Oddly enough, the décor that was most striking with Rockies mountain homes was Middle Eastern tribal color.

Priceless Heriz rugs on red backgrounds sat under plush brown leather furniture. Collectors had also found pieces of rugs that would have been museum-quality of they were whole, and turned them into floor and sofa pillows. The total effect was stunning.

Harm came into her study on a rainy Sunday morning, a steaming cup of coffee in his hand, and sat down.

“Good morning,” she said.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Looking at our list. You’ll be happy to know that all six of the unattached ladies have accepted my invitation to stay at the house.” Harm’s eyes lit from within as he blew across the top of his cup. “But before you get too excited, remember that we know nothing about them except that they are female and traveling alone. We don’t know age, race, or even if they’re leaving significant others behind.”

“It’s a start.”

“Maybe. How’s your cooking?”

“What?”

“Cooking. I mean you’re good-looking enough. Even I can acknowledge that. You have an okay personality when you’re not impersonating men behaving badly.”

“Aw. Thanks.”

“That’s a start, as you say, but it’s not enough to make you the most eligible bachelor alive.”

“I have money.”

She rolled her eyes. “We all have money, Harm.”

“Why do you say that? Our parents…”

She cut him off before he could get started on that again. “I know. I know. Our parents were in love with each other and idealism. Times have changed.”

“Times? Or us?”

“What’s the difference?”

He sighed and took a sip of coffee. “Don’t ruin it.”

Sixt softened at the delicate plea he made. Her brother had been just as alone as she’d been. He deserved some good things in his life.

“I’m not going to ruin it. I’m going to help you be as attractive as you can be.”

“What does that have to do with cooking?”

“I can’t tell you why, exactly, but there’s just nothing sexier than a man who knows his way around a kitchen. A guy in an apron flipping pancakes and frying bacon melts a girl’s heart.”

“Don’t you have a cook there?”

“Since I’m not there much, I just keep a live-in caretaker. I’m hiring temp staff for cooking, cleaning, etcetera, etcetera. But the point isn’t whether or not we could hire it down. The point is that the aroma of bacon cooking will get people out of bed and moving toward the kitchen like Eloi responding to the Morlocks’ dinner bell.” He looked slightly confused, like he was trying to place the reference. “H.G. Wells. Time Machine.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I know. I don’t get it either. Girly girls who work on cars. Macho boys who cook. Contradictions are sexy. When the lovely hopefuls arrive in the kitchen to see that none other than you, the handsome and available man witch is cooking, they’ll be charmed. ‘Coffee?’ you’ll say with a smile as they sit down on one of the stools at the island so that they can watch your every move, anticipating breakfast and getting to know you better.”

“Lovely hopefuls?” He arched an eyebrow as he chuckled. “You don’t sound like a CEO. You sound like a matchmaker extraordinaire.”

“Indeed. You haven’t answered the question.”

“About cooking?” Harm shook his head. “I barely know the difference between bisque and barbeque.”

“Well, then, we have a week to get you ready. There’s a chef school, right here in Manhattan, prepared to give you a five day intensive.”

“What? No.”

“Yes. You want a mate or not?”

“You sure that’s necessary?”

“Positive. It’s not that different from potions. It’s just food instead of herbs.”

He brightened. “Why can’t I just use magic to prepare food?”

“Because, Harm.” She sounded exasperated. “Anybody can do that! Well, any witch. Not just anybody can cook food using mundane methods.”

“I don’t understand why that would make me more appealing.”

“I know. You’ll just have to trust me.”

“So you think everything depends on me learning to cook.”

“Of course not. I’m just trying to enhance your chances of a favorable outcome. It’s called hedging your bets.”

“I know what it’s called.”

“Well, then let’s talk about the concept. You know you have options. When it comes to potential mates, I mean. There’s a rather enormous pool of humans, billions of them.”

Harm gaped. “You’re not serious.”

“I was. Are you that prejudiced?”

“It’s not about that as much as it’s about the balance of power.”

Sixt let that sink in. “I see what you mean. Still, I’m sure others have faced that issue and found ways to work around it.”

“Maybe, but there’s the risk. Humans are a problem for us. Remember?”

“If you were to find the right human, there’d be no risk.”

“That ‘if’ seems like a bottomless hole where anything could happen.”

Rolling her shoulders into a back wing stretch, Sixt said, “Just saying. Food for thought.”

“When are we leaving?”

“Friday morning. I have a local party planner working on coordinating lodging, transportation, and catering.”

“And you’re not worried?”

She got up for a more full body stretch and smiled at Harm. “You worry more than an old woman. If she sees or hears anything that gives her pause, it will immediately vanish from her thoughts like steam rising from a boiling pot.”

“You’re going to have to teach me how you do that. Seems like you’ve gotten really good at hiding.” She pointed to the framed cover of Forbes on the wall, of herself wearing a Versace suit, standing on the tarmac in front of her company’s private jet. “The best way is in plain sight. It’s easier to confuse or manipulate the memories of humans than to create foolproof lives.”

“Who would have guessed the baby of the family would be the smart one?”

“You’re going to make me blush.”

He shook his head. “Somehow I just don’t see you as the humble sort.”

 

Sixt found shopping with Deliverance to be every bit as entertaining as she’d imagined it would be. As they entered Outside Voices, Deliverance’s eyes scanned the sea of outfits and gear for cold weather. His eyes ran over everything they could see on the ground level floor and up to the mezzanine accessible by escalator.

“Have you ever been in this kind of store before?” she asked.

“Not that I remember.”

“Well, what do you know? I’m going to give the demon who’s seen everything a new experience.”

He looked at her open, hopeful face, the roses that had formed in her cheeks from the chilly wind outside on the sidewalk. “Why would people who live in the city need all this stuff?”

“Because they go on vacation and, when they get there, they want to be prepared with the latest and greatest.” She led the way to the ski and board section. “Are you athletic?” she asked, stopping in front of a rack of board pants.

“I suppose. Are you an athletic supporter?”

The demon watched her lips part in an eye-catching way just before she erupted in peals of laughter that drew attention, first to the laughing woman, then to the beautiful demon.

“I should warn you,” he said. “If you bring attention to me, you may have a hard time shaking those caught in the net of my charisma.”

She scoffed. “Oh, for pete’s sake. You need to get over yourself.” She waved her hand and all the shoppers who’d been staring at Deliverance returned to their business as if they’d never seen him.

“How did you…?”

“You underestimate me. You’re not the only one with a few tricks up your doeskin pants.”

He looked down. “Doeskin pants are good for the cold.”

She shook her head. “No. They are not. They will chafe your thighs and,” she looked downward, “other things in cold dry places.”

He frowned. “Chafing. That’s not good, is it?”

She chuckled. “If you don’t know, you’ve led a charmed life.”

“I stay away from cold places. I’m a fire demon.”

She stepped close enough so that they were almost touching. “That’s where fire is most needed.”

As the top of her head came to the bottom of his chin, he hooded his eyes to look down at her and lowered his voice when he said, “No touching.” He allowed the tone of that admonishment to sound as if there might be wiggle room and knew by the brief flare of heat in her eyes that his message was interpreted as he planned.

Half an hour later they had two armloads of clothes to try on. When she stopped at the dressing room entrance, he held the door open for her.

“No. You, ah, try on and then come out and let me see.”

“Why not just come in?”

“There’s not enough room for both of us.”

He looked behind him. “Sure there is.”

She looked around and felt a little embarrassed, like she was trying to have a conversation with Latka. “It’s just, um, not done.”

“Not done,” he repeated drily like the concept was stupid, which, if examined closely, it was. When he made no move to close the door, she relented. After looking around, she ducked into the smallish room and took a seat on the built-in bench.

He stood with his arms crossed, waiting for something. “Now what?”

“You try on clothes. What would you like to try first? Keep in mind that everything is going to look best over jeans. And that’s what guys wear in Aspen. Jeans.”

She held up a colorful Scandinavian print sweater.

He smiled and shook his head no in a definitive way that left no doubt he wouldn’t be wearing that sweater. She held up a fleece-lined, blood-red Henley.

Though it took her brain a couple of seconds to catch up, she supposed that the sweater that had been in her hand a moment before it was being modeled by the demon, had disappeared and reformed by a magic that was stronger than hers. She looked at him with respect. “Impressive.”

“What? This?”

For an instant Deliverance was standing in front of her in the full glory of unclothed sex demon. Just as suddenly he was wearing the dark red Henley over a pair of jeans with a divinely perfect fit.

It went so fast she questioned whether or not she’d actually seen what she had seen. But the demon’s nudity was burned into her brain, even after such brief exposure, in a way that convinced her it hadn’t been imagination.

He cocked his head. “If you’re impressed with changing clothes, it tells me you really suffered from babe-in-the-woods naivete when you decided to take a demon prisoner.” He dropped his chin and intended to lock her gaze to his, but his concentration slipped when her tongue peeked out to dampen her bottom lip. His eyes dropped to her mouth and lingered there a second too long. “Would you like to change your mind? Let me go?”

When the words fell from his lips, he realized that it had sounded like teasing. Or flirting! He hadn’t intended that.

He was careful to omit the fact that a change of heart would not include forgiving the debt owed him. He’d made a one-time offer of ending the contract without retribution. She hadn’t chosen to accept. So an entirely different and very one-sided deal was on the table.

 

 

On Friday morning, the car was waiting when Sixt and Harm stepped off the elevator and into her building lobby. Sixt was a little resentful that her own doorman smiled at Harm first, but she wouldn’t blame Harm for it. He couldn’t help the innate charisma that had turned her doorman into a fan.

The car made good time to the hangar, even if they did go by way of the bridge. Sixt maintained an non-negotiable anti-tunnel policy.

They settled into custom Chesterfield chairs on the WC6 jet. They delivered Sixt’s favorite tea and a copy of the Wall Street Journal printed on actual paper. It was a luxury in which she shamelessly indulged. Tactile habits die hard with people who read ink on paper for centuries.

When the flight attendant was out of earshot Harm said, “So your demon is meeting us there?”

She lowered the paper. “First, he’s not my demon. Second. Yes.”

“How does that work?”

“I don’t know really. I tried to give him the address. He laughed at me and disappeared.”

“I think there’s a lot about demons we don’t know.” Harm glanced out the window as they started to taxi. “Maybe we’re missing an opportunity here. You should find out everything you can about who they really are and what they can really do.”

Her eyes slanted toward her brother. “Why?” Her question dripped with suspicion. Harm shrugged. “As if we weren’t all educated on the dangers of summoning demons? You’re insane if you think you’re going to find a way to harness that power.”

“You did.”

“This is not the same thing. I’m not summoning. He found me. Or his granddaughter did.”

Harm smiled. “And you aren’t afraid he’ll say thank you very much and then reduce you to a pile of ashes? Or turn you into a pillar of salt? Or make you a gum ball on the street?” He brightened. “Or a urinal at the bus station!”

“Stop!”

Harm chuckled. “I hate to say it, but all of those consequences are still in play, Sixt. If I can think of dour deeds of revenge in a couple of seconds, imagine what he’s had time to think up. When you release him, he’ll be free. Do you hear what I’m saying? Free? That means he can do whatever he wants and, if he’s still miffed, he just might.”

Sixt took in a deep breath. “Of course it’s occurred to me.”

“That’s why you should be learning everything you can. And doing research on how to do battle with a demon holding a grudge.”

Sixt turned away, but Harm’s words left a brand on her heart. He was right. She needed to hope for the best and prepare for the worst. The meeting in Aspen would be an ideal time to ply the collective knowledge of other witches. She almost wished she hadn’t insisted that the demon tag along.

What was she thinking? Other than that she craved the sight of him, relished being in his presence, and missed him in inexplicable ways when he wasn’t around. She hadn’t realized she was walking around with a gaping hole before, but somehow having the demon nearby gave her a sense of peace. That was particularly odd considering that what Harm said was undoubtedly true. The demon would try to get back at her at the earliest opportunity.

Even if she hadn’t come to crave his nearness, that was reason alone to keep him captive for as long as possible. She shuddered at the thought of payback by a demon. She didn’t know any other demons, but she’d bet money that Deliverance was capable of being more vindictive than most. She needed to put her longing aside and get ready for war.

 

Shortly after takeoff Sixt had leaned the seat back in her reclining chair and dozed off, but something unidentifiable was keeping her from a good sound sleep. When she opened her eyes, she was staring into the face of a beautiful demon inches away. She blinked, but didn’t move otherwise. He snorted.

“What?” she asked.

“I was sure that would make you jump. It’s fairly easy to create surprises in lesser beings, but you have, what do they call it? Nerves of steel.”

Her lips grew thinner when she pressed them together. “Lesser beings?”

He nodded. “Yeah. It means inferi…”

“I know what it means, demon! I’m objecting to what was said, not what it means. You can’t possibly think it’s good manners to insinuate that I’m below you.”

After a slight hesitation, he laughed out loud. Sixt thought Deliverance’s laugh must have been one of the attributes bestowed on Abraxas demons to make them irresistible to their targets. The sight was a spectacle of beauty sufficient to rob the beholder of breath and fascinate hypnotically so that she was powerless to look away. The flash of white teeth against skin that looked sun kissed. Dark eyes that jumped to life like a pilot light sparked from within.

“First,” he replied, “I wasn’t insinuating anything. I was saying outright that your species is not at the level of mine. It’s a fact. Nothing more or less. Second, I can’t imagine what gave you the idea that I’m concerned with manners. The idea is a human construct as artificial as plastic and disposable as the other whims humans are known for.” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “The point is that, by getting lost in the weeds, you missed the point. Which was actually a compliment.”

“You’re complimenting me now? I missed that. What was it again?”

“Nerves of steel?”

“Excuse me if I missed the crumb you threw this way.”

He cocked his head. “What’s the problem?”

She narrowed her eyes. “Are you dense?”

He raised his eyebrows. “Maybe. Are you about to enlighten me?”

“I’d like to, but it’s only a six hour flight.” She fumbled for the button that would make her chair sit up. “You know the only thing that could possibly make you unattractive?” His eyebrows went up as he smiled broadly and shook his head ever so slightly. “Being a dick!”

Deliverance erupted into renewed laughter. As he was composing himself, it gradually dawned on him that he was enjoying the exchange with the witch. It could not be possible that he enjoyed teasing her. That would indicate something between them and he would not tolerate anything pleasant between them. Not even friendly teasing.

“Why is it being a dick to point out the obvious?”

“The obvious being that demons are superior to witches.”

“Precisely.”

“In what way?”

He waved at the plane. “You need this contraption to get to your convocation.” He smiled. “I don’t. See ya.” And he vanished.

She turned her head toward the window to see him on the outside of the plane, walking on the wing like the demon in The Twilight Zone movie, looking like he and his hair defied physics, which she supposed was true. As she stared he struck various poses wearing the cold weather clothes she’d bought him. She didn’t want to laugh, but the antics were too comical to ignore.

He grinned, saluted, and disappeared from view.

She sat back in the seat thinking. If she was brutally honest, she was going to be forced to admit that, even though Deliverance was insufferably smug about it, he was superior, in many ways. Humans would probably call him a god. That didn’t mean that she was helpless and totally without means. She wasn’t human and she didn’t think he was a god. She had a toolkit of her own and, before the weekend was over, it would be exponentially expanded.

Of course the weekend was promoted as being about socializing. But her business philosophy, that it’s good to know what your agenda is and bad to lose sight of it, could just as easily serve her interests when networking with other witches.

“You know I was thinking.” Harm interrupted her reverie. She turned her head toward him. “Maybe that demon could stay someplace else for the weekend?”

“Why?” When Harm didn’t answer right away, his concern hit Sixt like a flashing neon billboard. “You’re afraid you won’t get a chance with the eligibles if Deliverance is around.” She chuckled in spite of secretly agreeing he should be concerned.

“It hasn’t escaped my notice that the record is full of our kind who go gaga over demons like him.”

“By, like him, you mean Abraxas? Sex demons?”

“Well, yes, Sixt. That’s what I mean.”

“I’d like to say your worries are without foundation, but I can’t. I’ll ask him to make himself scarce. Shouldn’t be a problem. He’s probably dying to be uninvited.”

Harm brightened. “Thanks. I mean. I need a chance.”

“I know. How are you at pancakes?”

He grinned. “Incredible. If I do say so. I could put on a show like Coyote Ugly.”

“So you’re serving drinks with your pancakes.”

“Of course. Name a breakfast cocktail and watch me go to work.”

“I’ll look forward to that so long as you keep your clothes on.”

“You’re kind of prudish for a seventeenth century feminist.”

She chuckled and turned to the crossword puzzle in the Times. “I’m not prudish because I don’t want to watch your jiggly bits jiggle while you make brunch.”

“But the ‘eligibles’ as you call them, and I hope they are, might want to see what’s on the market.”

She put down the crossword long enough to pin him with a stare. “I have a phrase for you. Window dressing. The best way to show off what you’re selling is by dressing it.”

As much as she believed she was giving her brother good advice, the image of Deliverance in the dressing room took center stage in her brain. His skin had looked so touchable.

“What just happened?” Harm said.

She pushed the image away. “What?”

“You got this far away look. What were you thinking about?”

“Nothing.”

“Bull. Shit. You were daydreaming about that demon. Weren’t you? Looking besotted like a school girl with a crush.”

“What would you know about school girls? You never went to school. Likewise, I’ll bet you’ve never had a crush in your life.”

“Deflecting.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“I’m doing this puzzle now. Find something to do.”

He looked toward the galley. “How about the flight attendant?”

“No fraternizing with the help.”

“I wasn’t going to fraternize with her. I was going to schtupp with her.”

“Save your eagerness,” she said the word pointedly, “for Aspen.”

“You’re no fun. Were you always no fun?”

“Well, you never paid attention to me when we lived together as a family and you dumped me in Paris at the first opportunity.”

He nodded. “Guess that means you were always no fun.”

She snapped her paper and went back to her puzzle, knowing that she would never extricate herself from the exchange unless she ignored him.

“I can’t wait to meet some other witches.”

She ignored him.

 

Deliverance arrived at the house in Aspen before Sixt and Harm. He had to hand it to the witch. She’d done alright for herself given the limitations of Loti Dimension. There were several people in the house busying themselves with fresh flowers, food, drinks, and so forth.

Noticing him wandering around, one of them, a woman with a clipboard, introduced herself and said, “Can I help you?”

“I’m the advance team of one,” he said. “I work for Sixt.”

The smile he gave her following his explanation would have satisfied the woman if he’d said he was there to take the silver and spray paint graffiti.

He walked away thinking it was delicious to have the freedom to walk away.

After a self-tour of the house, there was no question about which bedroom was the master. It was large and welcoming, with floor to ceiling windows that looked out onto ski slopes and a large fireplace. Deliverance loved fireplaces, especially in places that were cold. Like Aspen. The room was done entirely in pale sage green. Everything that wasn’t polished wood furniture was the same shade. Carpet, bedding, window shutters, and wall art, all pale sage green. It was calming. In an odd way, depending on the perspective of the view, it could be seen as very feminine or as suitable for a gentleman dressed by Ralph Lauren. In an odd way, it was also sexy.

He fell across the bed onto his back and bounced a little before coming to rest staring at the tongue and groove stained wood ceiling, the tint of which matched the furniture perfectly. An unwelcome and unbidden image of being in that bed at the same time as Sixt came to mind. The flashes of fantasy involving the witch were becoming more frequent, but they only served to set his jaw tighter and make him more determined to see the requital through to the end.

After having a thorough look around, he decided to take the room next door. If she had nightmares, he’d be close by. He didn’t care if she suffered from night terrors. In fact he enjoyed it. But every such encounter caused her to lower her guard a little more. Eventually he would come to know her very deepest fears.

He brought no luggage. The idea of a demon with luggage was intrinsically comical. During the shopping trip he’d learned what Sixt liked seeing him wear. He’d also learned that she liked seeing him in nothing, but there was no surprise there. All females had that reaction. He was able to recreate the clothes that hung in the closet or rested folded in drawers in Graydon’s room in the penthouse with a thought.

Clothing himself in something he expected would keep him warm, he went out for a look around Aspen.  

 

The driver let Sixt and Harm off at the front door. He would park in the rear, unload luggage, and someone would see to it that everything made its way to the right place by the time it was needed.

They climbed up eight steps to the front door. The house, built on an outcropping was multilevel to conform to the terrain. There was a first floor, a second floor, a loft, a mezzanine, and an entire guest wing that could be reached in half the steps it would take to climb to the second floor in the main part of the house.

Once inside, Harm stopped and gave a low whistle. The reaction caused Sixt to look around, imagining seeing it through someone else’s eyes for the first time. It was beyond handsome. It was gorgeous.

The gas fires were all lit. The juxtaposition of that with fresh flowers told a story of wealth and privilege.

As Sixt set the cat carrier down and released Ashes, Harm said, “This is…”

“What?”

He seemed to be searching for the right word. “Wonderful.” He looked at her. “Can I have it?”

She laughed. Looking around again, she said, “Maybe. If you give a rose to somebody I like, I might make it a wedding present.”

He snapped his fingers. “The list just got longer. Dark hair, blue eyes, long legs, delectable curves, and likeable sister-in-law traits.”

Sixt nodded, smiling. “I approve of the last item on the list.”

“Where do you think your demon is?”

“He’s not my demon. Stop calling him that.”

“Is he free to go?”

She scowled. “You know the answer to that.”

“I do. The answer is no. If he’s not free to go, then he’s your demon.”

“Used in that context, I take your point.” She began walking. “Want a tour?”

He scoffed. “What do you think? Of course I want a tour of my wedding present.”

“Getting a little ahead of yourself. You know when I was a child, I thought you were fun and, um, good-natured, I guess? Now I think you’re impulsive and maybe a little immature.”

He nodded, smiling. “I am. I am. But also fun and good-natured.” He followed as she walked through the main living room, past the smaller conversation rooms, past the large dining room capable of seating twenty, a smaller, rustic dining room with a stone fireplace designed to seat eight, through the butler’s pantry, to the enormous kitchen that featured miles of concrete countertops and an enormous island with polished wood sides and a granite top. Dozens of shiny copper and stainless pots and pans hung from the fixture above that also featured spotlights to illuminate the island. A perfect marriage of form and function. “And don’t forget good-looking. Very good-looking. Extremely good-looking!”

“And humble.”

“Right. Humility is what I’m most known for.” As they walked he’d been half-interested in the tour, but his eyes were continually drawn to views of the slopes. “I’ll bet this is amazing when it’s covered in snow. Do you ski or board?”

“I don’t do either one. I watch the idiots who do.”

He gaped. “You aren’t serious. Why would you have this,” he waved his arm to indicate a place fit for royalty by mountain house standards, “in the ski capital of the world if you don’t ski?”

“It’s a nice change from Manhattan. I like the views. I like the ‘magic’ of the lights at Christmas, and, like I said, I enjoy watching the humans come down the mountain. I know I call them idiots, but the whole thing was kind of inventive of them.”

Harm nodded. “Humans are really good at games.”

Sixt looked at her brother. “They are!”

Turning so that he could face her fully, Harm looked uncharacteristically serious. “I’m not entirely undisciplined, you know. You’re not the only one who doesn’t like being alone. It wasn’t easy to mark decades off on a calendar while I was on an island with a few people I studiously avoided.”

Sixt’s face softened as she looked at her brother, noticing that his eyes were more or less identical to her own. She reached up and touched the lock of dark blonde hair that had fallen onto his forehead. “I know. You’re complicated.”

He searched her eyes until he was satisfied that she wasn’t discounting him as completely superficial, then suddenly grinned. “Good. I need snacks.”

The local party planner rushed into the reading room where they stood. She was almost breathless, wearing what could only be called mountain chic, a world away from Manhattan.

Sixt had chosen that location for her reading room because it had the best view of the slopes. It had an oversized fireplace - one of only two real wood-burning fireplaces in the house - and a nap chair that called out like a siren to anyone who saw it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here to greet you. I’m Lacy Jakes.”

Sixt shook her hand and introduced herself and her brother. It was fairly clear that Lacy would have accepted a marriage proposal from him on the spot. The way the woman looked up at Harm made Sixt snicker, which seemed to recall the party planner’s attention to the business at hand.

“All the arrangements have been made. We have people meeting your guests at the airport to take them to their lodging. Except for those who’ll be staying here, of course.” She glanced at Harm, clearly wishing she was on that list.

“Thank you. Everything is ready for the meet and greet tonight?”

“Yes. Heavy hors d'oeuvres in the kitchen for those staying here. Those in local lodging are on their own for dinner. They’ll be picked up by their assigned drivers in time to arrive here at exactly nine o’clock.”

Sixt nodded. “The menus for dinners are set?”

Lacy mirrored Sixt’s nod. “Yes. The restaurant at the top of the mountain is reserved for your private lunch tomorrow. The gondolas will be available only for your guests, who’ll be given a pass on a lanyard, and the service people who are working the event.

“You’ll have twenty for dinner here tomorrow night. Nineteen the night thereafter. Is that correct?”

“It is for now. You know how these things go. If there’s any last minute change of plans, I’ll let you know. Now I have schedules to be delivered by hand. If my things have arrived, I’ll give them to you now.”

“Oh yes. Your luggage is in the master. There was a hard side briefcase that I sent to your office. If that’s not right it can be moved, of course.”

“No. That’s right. Let me get the schedules for you.” Sixt could hear that Lacy was following as she walked toward the office. Over her shoulder, she said, “I’ve included your cell number for my guests’ use. Just in case they need anything.”

After a slight hesitation, Lacy said, “Of course, I’m happy to be on call.”

“Good.” You should be, considering what you’re being paid.

Sixt pulled the briefcase to the desktop and opened it so that Lacy couldn’t see what was inside. She withdrew thirty-five large Cranes envelopes made of the heaviest cream-colored vellum. On the front the name of each guest was written in black calligraphy. The back featured a large black wax circle with the impression of Sixt’s seal. Underneath the black wax was a four inch red satin ribbon that could be used as a tab.

Lacy took the envelopes. “They are…” she hesitated, clearly impressed with the presentation, “beautiful.”

Sixt smiled. “I’m old-fashioned. And so are some of my guests. Please see to it that these arrive in good condition.”

“I will deliver them personally and emphasize that I’m available should they need anything.”

“Excellent. Well, I think I’ll go get settled in.” Sixt looked at her watch. “When will the guests who are staying here be arriving?”

“Between five and seven. So, the first will be here soon.”

“Thank you, Lacy.”

The woman took that as a dismissal. “Of course. Thank you.”

 

The schedules listed the planned activities, locations, suggested dress, the address of Sixt’s house, and Lacy’s phone number. They included an open door invitation to stop by the house for socializing at any time during the day for the following two days. There was also an addendum that read, “Confusion wards in place. Speak free and without worry.”

 

Sixt found Harm still in the kitchen chatting up a man who was stocking the refrigerator along with several food preparers who were setting out silver trays, arranging champagne flutes, and readying the hot finger food for baking or heating. Apparently the caterers had arrived.

Sixt caught Harm’s eye and motioned to him. When he walked over, she said, “Let’s make sure they put your things in the right room.” As they climbed the stairs, she said, “And we need to raise the free speech protections. Guests will be arriving within the hour.”

Harm nodded and followed. When Sixt reached the room she’d planned for Harm to occupy, Deliverance was there, sitting on the bed, apparently playing some sort of handheld video game.

“Deliverance,” she said. “I see you found the right place, but not the right room. This is where Harm will be staying.”

He glanced up at Sixt for a split second, but continued playing. “No,” he said. “I’m in here. Harm can stay in the room on the other side. I moved his stuff.”

If Sixt had actually thought of the demon as her captive, she might not have been amused.

Harm cleared his throat.

“Oh, well,” she began, “there’s been a change of plans. I’m not going to need you this weekend after all.”

Sixt’s eyes went to the device the demon held in his hands when she heard the faint sounds of an explosion and maniacal laughter emitting from it. She was far from being an expert on gaming, but she took that to mean he was virtually dead. His glare seemed to confirm that.

“You’re not going to need me?”

“No.”

“What about all the preparations? The clothes?”

“Change of plans.”

He cocked his head. “I sense something’s off. What caused this change of plans?”

“I don’t answer to you.”

“You don’t, but I think you like being courteous.”

She turned to Harm and nodded toward the hall. “The other room is pretty much the same as this one. See if your stuff is there and give me a minute with, um, Deliverance.”

Harm shrugged. To Deliverance he said, “Hey.”

“Hey,” the demon answered in kind.

When Harm was gone, Sixt shut the door, walked over and sat down next to Deliverance. “Okay. Here’s the truth. Harm is hoping to find someone.”

“Who?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Not someone he already knows. Somebody worthy of, um, courting.”

“Oh.” Sixt was close enough for him to register the heat coming from her body. And her smell. “What does that have to do with me?”

She sighed. “It’s probably not news to you that females find you attractive.”

He searched Sixt’s eyes as if he could extract a deeper meaning than the words conveyed. “He’s afraid they’ll only have eyes for me.” She nodded. After a brief hesitation, he said, “And are you afraid of that?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He smiled. “Yes. You do.”

“You want me to tell the truth about whether or not I’d be jealous if I had to watch you cavort with other women.”

“Confirm or deny, but I’m very good at reading the change in auras when people lie.”

“Auras change when people lie?”

He pulled back, frowning, but looking surprised. “You didn’t know that?”

She shook her head and looked bemused. “I honestly didn’t. Can you teach me?”

“I don’t know. The question isn’t, can I? The question is, would I? And the answer is, why would I?”

She smiled sweetly and batted her eyelashes. It was charming to the very edge of beguiling, making Deliverance think that, had they spent time together under other circumstances, had he not wandered off that night in Boston, things might have been different.

“Because I asked?”

Sixt didn’t think for a second that the demon would say yes.

“Release me from my contract and I’ll teach you to read auras.”

It had been a joke and nothing could have surprised Deliverance more than seeing that Sixt was considering the offer. The deal. What started as a joke had turned suddenly serious. He was still as a statue, on some level afraid that if he moved a muscle she would decide the answer was no.

“Tell you what,” she said. “I’ll think about it this weekend and let you know when we get home. But right now I’m thinking that would be fair.”

The word ‘fair’ resurrected all the ire the demon had cached with her name on it. Sooner or later he would teach the witch the meaning of ‘fair’.

He smiled, supremely satisfyingly confident in the knowledge that she couldn’t read his lies. “Since I’m here, I might as well spend three more days with you, then.” She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. “Don’t worry about Harm’s ladies. I can control what they see. They won’t even register that I’m in the room unless I want them to.”

He took her hand, which made Sixt’s back go pole straight like she’d been electrically shocked. As for Deliverance, he knew that was a mistake the instant he’d done it. When his body responded with interest to the way her hand fit in his, he barely stifled both a grimace and a clench of his jaw.

He withdrew his hand as if it had been the most natural gesture between friends. “Of course if Harm finds the ‘one’ and there are tasty morsels afoot, I’ll be free to explore.”

Sixt barely stifled a grimace and a clench of jaw at the idea of Deliverance stalking one night stands in her own house. “Of course,” she said without emotion. “Enjoy your stay.”

Without another word, she rose to leave. When she reached the threshold, she could hear the sounds of a video game resume behind her. Shutting the door firmly she walked to Harm’s room. The door was open.

“Will this do?” she asked.

He stopped hanging up clothes and held his arms out wide. “Unless you want to offer me your room.” She snorted. “Okay. Had to ask.”

“No. You didn’t have to ask.”

“Did you get rid of the demon?”

“We’re making progress. Now he’s the demon and not my demon. And no. He’s staying.” She held up her hand when Harm opened his mouth. “Don’t worry. He’s not going to compromise your chances. Seems that we’re not the only ones who know how to glamour.”

“Oh?”

“Hmmm. However, if you find the ‘one’, he says he gets open season on the rest.” Harm barked out a laugh. “What’s so hysterical about that?”

“I would have loved to see the look on your face.” Gaping at her brother, Sixt knew she wasn’t disguising her feelings. Harm shook his head. “He’s playing you. He knows you have a thing for him. You’re holding him prisoner. He’s put a ringed target on your heart.”

Seeing her look away like she was thinking that over, Harm continued. “Come on. This can’t be news. It’s his only play. The only way to get back at you and you’ve left yourself wide open for it. You haven’t even tried to hide how you feel about him. Have you?”

It wasn’t a question intended to be answered. It was an accusation. She shook her head.

“Well, what are you going to do?”

“I told him that I’d think about letting him go when we get back if he’ll teach me a trick.”

“What trick?”

“How to read lies in auras.”

Harm looked properly impressed. “That is a good trick!” He leaned against the door jamb, hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “As far as letting him go. That’s for the best. Just make sure he’s signing off on not pursuing further action. Some kind of release clause. You know?”

She nodded. “Yeah.” She turned to leave. “You’ll be downstairs to help me greet people when they start showing up?”

He grinned. “You know I wouldn’t miss it. Can’t wait to see the lineup.” He wiggled his eyebrows and rubbed his hands together.

“I think you need to manage your expectations.”

“Thank you, Dr. Phil.”

She chuckled, glanced at her watch and decided there was just enough time for a hot bath. “Later.”

 

The master bath was a work of art. It had a fireplace set into the wall at waist height, rain forest onyx counters, dark bronze faucets, stone floors, a doorless glass shower, and a copper tub set into a custom built redwood frame.

She started the fire just before starting the hot water running into the tub and tossed in a few lavender bath beads. The instant the calming aroma hit her olfactory sense she felt better about herself, her life, and the world in general. After laying out the clothes she would wear to welcome the first guests, she pulled her thick hair into a high ponytail, and stepped into the steaming tub. The second her body was surrounded by the soothing heat, she moaned out loud before lying back, eyes closed, to savor the decadence of half an hour without appointments, phone calls, responsibility, or any other nuisance. She hadn’t realized how tight her muscles were until she felt them surrender their stress to the bath.

The house was well built, but not so well built that the demon in the next room didn’t hear the bath water come on. He ignored it and continued to play his game until he heard the water shut off. The moan of sensual pleasure caused him to go stock still. The sound had attracted his demon curiosity, which would be hard to ignore if he wanted to. And he didn’t want to.

When Sixt felt a slight shift in the air, she opened her eyes to see what might have caused it. Mystery solved. There was a singularly beautiful demon standing over her staring at her nakedness like she was a meal. She followed his eyes to her red pubic hairs that were waving in the water as if to say hello.

In one motion she sat up and pulled her knees to her chin to cover herself.

“What are you doing in here?” She hoped she sounded as scandalized as she felt.

“Looking at you.” Deliverance answered the question as if she’d asked what he was watching on TV.

“I know that! You can’t just show up in my bathroom without permission.”

“I just did. If permission is a problem for you, then give me permission.” He gave a little wave as if to say problem solved.

“NO!”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m naked.”

“You’ve seen me naked.”

That answer flustered her to the point of spluttering. “I didn’t ask to see you naked.”

“Well, you have my permission to see me naked anytime you want.” He looked like a lightbulb had just gone off. “Oh! You feel like if you’re naked then I should be, too.” And with that his clothing vanished.

Sixt hugged her knees tighter as she closed her eyes. “Deliverance. Please restore your state of dress and leave this room.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m embarrassed. For one thing.”

“Why?”

“Ugh!”

“You’re bashful about your body? You shouldn’t be. You have nothing to be ashamed of. I’d even say you’re…”

She let one eye open ever so slightly, waiting to see how he’d finish that sentence. He had wished his clothes back on. Wished or whatever process he used to manufacture clothing from thin air. She opened her eyes again.

“What? I’m what?”

“Everything any male could ever want.”

Sixt sucked in a little gasp at that. It was a simple straightforward statement. Not poetic in any way. And yet it seemed like she’d been given the universe. Her sexual attractiveness had just been confirmed by the one creature whose opinion mattered to her.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “Now, please, will you get out so I can get dressed?”

“You can get dressed with me here.”

“I could. But I really want to get dressed alone.”

“You know there’s absolutely nothing in our contract that addresses concerns about ‘privacy’.”

She acknowledged that was true with a small nod thinking that was another good reason to release him when they returned to New York. “That’s why I said please.”

He disappeared.

Deliverance picked up his game, but found that he was no longer interested. He suspected that the picture of the witch’s beautiful body, invitingly pink from the hot bath, was going to plague him until he found a way to scour the image from his mind.

He flung the game aside and sat on the side of the bed staring straight ahead. He didn’t realize he was unconsciously listening for sounds of Sixt moving around in her bath or closet next door until Ashes came padding in through the door he’d left open. She jumped onto the bed effortlessly, sat on her haunches and began making bread as she purred loudly.

“What do you want?”

He didn’t ask nicely.

Completely unaffected by his tone, she gave no appearance of caring whether he was harsh or not.

He sighed. Then heard a flurry of activity coming from the main part of the house. He looked at Ashes. “Show time.”

Clearly Harm heard the same telltale indications that company had arrived. He stopped by Sixt’s door, knocked loudly, yelled, “Let’s go,” and hurried on past.

Sixt emerged a minute later, skin dewy, cheeks still rosy from the bath, in jeans, UGG boots and a red silk sweater that complimented her coloring. She hesitated when she passed Deliverance’s room and saw the demon sitting on his bed. She narrowed her eyes at Ashes like she was accusing the cat of being a traitor, but proceeded with a scant glance at the demon and nothing said.

Deliverance loved red and hated being ignored, but he’d promised to be unobtrusive and not draw attention to himself. At the time that didn’t sound so hard to do.

 

Downstairs Sixt saw that Harm was engaged in conversation with two new arrivals. One was tall and lean with an athletic, Amazonian build and white-blonde hair. The other was medium height and curvaceous with light brown hair and stunning eyes, soft amber gold irises surrounded by a black ring. Both women appeared to be in their twenties, but with witches it was impossible to tell true age without asking. Even then it would be impossible to know for sure. At least until the demon taught her how to read lies in auras.

Harm glanced up, eyes dancing with excitement. “Oh, hey. This is my sister, Sixt. She owns this place.” He leaned into the two new arrivals and said conspiratorially, “But I’m trying to get it away from her.” He winked at Sixt, who gave him a knowing smile before introducing herself.

“Get settled in,” she said, “and then come join us for a glass of wine in here.” She pointed toward a far end of the living room where there was a smaller seating area in an alcove. “We’ll get to know each other a little before the place turns into bedlam.”

For the next half hour the four could sit in one of the living space alcoves where they could chat out of the way of party preparedness.

While Harm showed the two to their rooms and said he and Sixt would be waiting for them downstairs. Sixt told the temp butler, whom she’d instructed to dress like a local, to bring wine, cheeses, and fruit for four to the alcove. Harm returned with a brisk step, looking like he’d won the lottery. He threw himself onto the loveseat where Sixt waited, with a boyish grin any witch would fall for. Sixt wasn’t worried that he’d find what he was looking for.

He thought it was a pinup trophy, but she knew better. Her brother wanted love. The kind their parents had shared. Some of her earliest memories contained glimpses of her parents sharing silent smiles and looks laden with private messages. Day to night, year in, year out, they had sustained each other, making joy more rule than exception.

Harm had witnessed the same phenomenon. True love is that. A phenomenon. And he wanted it for himself.

Sixt never thought about love. In a way she’d been imprisoned by the throes of unrequited lust, or infatuation. She had known the demon for a moment. And that was all it had taken to ruin her chances for love. Having felt his breath in her ear, even for a moment, having heard the deep rasp of his voice and smelled the intoxicating scent of fire with a hint of arousal, it was painfully obvious that all others fell short.

“What are you thinking?” Harm asked. “You have that faraway look again.”

Two of the caterers brought the wine and glasses along with a tray arranged artfully enough to be a magazine photo.

As they were leaving Ashes padded in and leapt onto Harm’s lap. She curled up, began to purr, and looked up into his eyes with a drowsy expression of content. “Hey, beautiful.” He stroked her fur and her back arched to meet his hand. “Where’ve you been?”

“I know where she’s been,” Sixt accused, taking a sip of Chardonnay. Ashes looked at Sixt lazily.

“Where?”

“Deliverance.”

“Oh,” Harm said to the cat. “You’ve been a bad girl, haven’t you? Sixt doesn’t like you to be too friendly with the enemy.”

“He’s not the enemy.”

“You wish.”

Opal and Carlin arrived together. Harm stood up, dumping the cat, who sneezed, raised her tail, and more or less huffed away.

“Here,” he said to Opal, “sit next to Sixt.”

Sixt took that to mean that the culling had begun. Of the two he preferred Carlin over Opal and wanted to sit next to her. Even though she did not have dark hair, blue eyes, or mile-long legs, she seemed likable enough and might have sister-in-law potential.

Sixt smiled at Opal and gestured to the spot left vacant on the loveseat she occupied. “Wine?”

Opal nodded and said, “Thank you,” quietly.

Carlin, on the other hand, was more effusive. “Thank you so much for hosting this get together. I haven’t been able to think about anything else since I heard the call. Oh, by the way, the schedules are lovely. I miss paper. Don’t you? And ink! And wax seals!”

Harm chuckled. “What do you say? Is it okay to ask each other how old we are?”

Carlin turned to him. “That’s a good question. I don’t mind.”

They turned to Sixt and Opal.

“Personal preference. Nobody has to say if they don’t want to. I don’t mind. I’m three hundred ninety-seven years old.”

Sixt could tell by Opal’s and Carlin’s reactions that they were surprised.

“Um. You look really good,” said Carlin.

“I’m five years older,” Harm said.

After a brief stare, Carlin said, “You look good, too.”

He leaned toward her with a sexy smile and said, “Thanks.” He looked between Carlin and Opal. “To tell or not to tell.”

“Well, I’m a hundred and eighty-three. From Ayr. Scotland,” said Carlin.

They looked at Opal. “I’m, um, old,” said Opal.

When she said no more, Harm cleared his throat. “One thing I think we’ve established already is that age is relative. So you’re saying you’re old compared to us? Or old compared to the world as we know it?”

“Yes.”

Harm and Sixt shared a look and apparently decided, together, to drop the subject.

“So,” Sixt said. “Did the two of you come together?”

Opal shook her head no.

Carlin said, “We just arrived at the cute little airport at about the same time.” She raised and dropped her shoulders. “So we got a ride together. Opal came from Lapland.”

“Finland?” Sixt asked.

Opal nodded. “The north.”

“Sounds cold,” Harm said.

Opal gave him a faint smile that could have suggested tones of superiority. “Comfort is not a challenge.”

“Alrighty then,” Harm said, turning to Carlin. “What are you hoping to get out of this weekend?”

“Well, I want to meet people.” She smiled at Sixt before turning back to Harm. “Of course. But I’m also hoping to get some help with a spell that confuses doggy noses.”

Sixt chuckled. “Okay. I’ll bite. Why do you want to confuse doggy noses?”

Carlin seemed delighted to be asked. She was like a little bundle of enthusiasm infused with energy. “Because…” She drew the word out like it was a fanfare. “I grow the best cannabis in the world and I bake it into all kinds of yummy things like cookies and brownies. It’s like the best medicine in the world. It helps with pain and insomnia and it may even cure some really awful things. Like… you know.” Sixt and Harm exchanged a look. If their parents had been alive, it was exactly the sort of thing they’d have been up to. “So I’ve made the, you know, illegal part undetectable to any means of detection except doggy noses.”

“Oh.” Harm chuckled. “You want to confuse drug dogs.”

She frowned slightly. “Not so much confuse. I just want them to be oblivious. You know, nothing to see here! Move along.”

Harm looked at Sixt. “A Star Wars reference. This is too good to be true.”

Sixt laughed. “So you’re hoping for an exchange of ideas.”

“Exactly!” Carlin grinned. “And to meet others like me.” She glanced at Harm. “Of course.”

Sixt turned to Opal. “So are you single?”

Opal smiled slightly. “Yes.”

“You?” Sixt said to Carlin. Harm silently thanked Sixt for getting to the heart of what he needed to know so smoothly and sneakily.

“Oh, yes.” Carlin laughed. “I’m not into humans and I’ve never dated a, um, warlock.” She smiled at Harm.

“Don’t know what you’re missing,” said Harm, wiggling his eyebrows.

Carlin laughed again. “You’re right. I don’t.”

“Where did you come from?” Sixt abruptly changed the subject to include a topic of interest to all four of them.

“Washington. Some of the time.”

“Washington State?”

Carlin nodded. “Yes.”

“Do you ski?” Harm asked Carlin.

“Oh gods yes. Well, no. I prefer board. But I like the snow.” She looked around. “I’ll bet this place is amazing in season.”

Sixt smiled. “It’s pretty when it’s all white.”

“Not that it’s not pretty now,” Carlin said as Harm beamed at her.

They heard some voices coming from the front of the house.

“That must be more peeps,” Sixt said as she rose to go greet the new guests. “Stay and visit if you want,” she told Harm.

“No. I’ll come. I’m co-host after all.” He winked at Carlin. “Back in a few.”

The other three houseguests were still clustered near the front door, having arrived together. And they were a bevy of beauties, which made sense since witches can, to some extent, control what others see.

Sixt felt Harm following and knew in an instant that one of the three was a replica of the dream girl Harm had described. Dark hair, blue eyes, legs that couldn’t help but be long because she was tall enough to look Harm eye to eye. The word that jumped into Sixt’s consciousness was statuesque. Poor Carlin.

The other two were attractive. One auburn-haired with a big white smile. One dishwater blonde with sun-kissed streaks, a Newport Beach tan, clothes that said money, money, money, and a manner that said privileged from birth. Sixt was familiar with that air. She’d come to recognize it during the years she’d become a practiced courtier.

Sixt grabbed the temp butler and told him to move the wine and cheese to the room Sixt called hunters dining because it reminded her of an eighteenth century French hunting lodge.

“The other house guests are already here,” Sixt told the recently arrived. “You’re welcome to join us in the room off the kitchen, but if you’d rather nap or freshen up, do that. It’s free time until the party starts.”

 

The caterers kept the sibling co-hosts and their five house guests happy with wine and finger foods throughout the evening while the seven chatted amiably. Or rather six chatted amiably. Opal observed in her reserved and somewhat aloof way.

They learned that all five house guests, of wildly varying ages, were indeed single. In fact, they were different in so many ways, from experience to philosophy to reasons for coming.

The one thing they had in common was that they were witches.

Just before they were about to adjourn and go to their separate rooms to get ready for the party, Deliverance stopped by. In fact he stopped by the chair where Sixt sat at the end of the table. She waited for the other women to drop their dignity and faun all over him, but they looked completely unaffected.

Looking up at Deliverance, it was evident he was working at suppressing a heart-stopping grin. “Aren’t you going to introduce me?”

She pulled her gaze away and looked around the table. “Of course. Everybody, this is my friend, um, Deliverance.”

“Pretty name,” said Carlin, but it seemed that, if anything, she was being polite.

Sixt went around the table and named each person.

He nodded, tapped her chair, and said, “Nice fire,” before leaving.

The Hunters’ room fireplace was the second wood burning fireplace in the house and Sixt had let Harm build it up because the temperature was dropping outside. It wasn’t what you’d call a ‘roaring’ fire, but the flames were jumping knee high and the crackle of pinion pine mixed with other woods made for a cozy get-acquainted evening.

 

When Sixt made her way to her room to change, she found the demon leaning against the wall next to her door.

“That was a good trick,” she said. “What do they see when they look at you?”

“Ordinary.”

“Uh-huh. How do I know that what I see is the real you?”

“You don’t. Does it matter?”

She cocked her head and thought about that. “I guess not. As long as you’re not gruesome.”

He laughed, which made her heart seize. She wondered if he knew that. “I’ll stop by afterward and tell you all about the party. If I think of it.”

“No need. I’m going.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not a demon party. It’s a witch party.”

“There’ll be humans there. Serving,” he pointed out.

“Did you want to attend as a server?”

He smiled. “No. I want to go as your date.”

She looked incredulous for a couple of seconds before laughing. “Since when do incubi date?”

“Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do. Are you worried that you’ll start a scandal?” He dipped his chin in a flirtatious way and gave her the full press demon twinkle. “A coven of witches cavorting with a demon on a full moon night?”

She scowled. “Is tonight the full moon?”

He laughed. “Nice try. I know enough about witches to know that the event was planned with moon phases in mind. You are supremely aware that the full moon is day after tomorrow. If you didn’t know that, you’d have to turn in your witch card.”

She glanced at her watch. “I have to get ready. Do me a favor and stay out of sight tonight.”

The second those unfortunate words left her lips she wanted a redo. The last thing Deliverance wanted was to do Sixt a favor. She knew that. How could she get relaxed enough around him to forget something so vital?

She knew what was coming next.

“Is it important enough to you to let me go?”

“We already discussed coming to an arrangement to terminate the contract early when we get back. Being nice while we’re here will certainly go a long way toward making me feel inclined to negotiate.”

His eyes slanted away. “I took you for smarter than believing you can outmaneuver a demon.” He sighed. “Maybe not.”

Sixt was trying to remember why she’d wanted Deliverance to come along. Oh, yes. Because she was afraid of what he’d get into if left alone for days.

“You’re really not interested in witchy small talk. It would bore you to tears.”

He pursed his lips. “Could be. Let’s find out.”

She looked at her watch again. If she continued standing in the hall arguing with the demon she was going to be late and that was just unacceptable. It would be better to have an unexplained, ‘ordinary’ fellow lurking about at the party than to be host and be late. She wondered if any of the attendees would be creature sniffers and recognize him as a demon regardless of his glamour.

“Whatever. Do what you want,” she said.

He chuckled behind her. “You know I’d do that no matter what you said.”

 

Suggested dress for the weekend was ‘mountain casual’, but that didn’t mean attendees wouldn’t still try to impress. When Sixt came out of her closet half an hour later, she was wearing an ivory cashmere sweater over ivory suede pants, with soft ivory leather over-the-knee boots. She’d used a little magic to straighten her hair, left it down, and added old gold hoops to her ears. The sort of old gold that can be seen in the Egyptian section of the Metropolitan Museum. 

Deliverance was sitting on her bed waiting. His eyes traveled slowly down to the floor and back up again. When his gaze returned to her face, one of her eyebrows was arched as if to say, “What are you doing?”

“I thought we had an understanding about privacy.”

“We do. There’s no privacy between us.”

“That’s not the understanding I had in mind.”

“Well, you can’t always be right, I guess. What do you want me to wear?”

“Since you’re not going to be with me tonight, I guess it’s demon’s choice.”

He laughed. “If you don’t choose, I will.” A threat was definitely implied, choose or I’ll embarrass you.

She was out of time and defeated. “When you first showed up in my office, you were wearing a knit shirt. Really, really, really dark blue.” Suddenly he was wearing that shirt. “With jeans and square toed brown boots.”

Either he paid more attention to what he wore than most males or he’d pulled the memory straight out of her head, but there he was, in the exact clothes she remembered.

“Very nice. You look lovely,” she said. “Now if only you behave as good as you look…”

He grinned and crooked his arm as if offering to escort her. She snorted, but how she wished they were actually going on a real date. She sighed surreptitiously. The day would come, sooner than she thought, when she let him go with an apology. But the day would never come when she would tell him that she’d never once fantasized about anyone but him.

Harm was passing by as they opened the door. His eyes flew to Deliverance.

“Oh, for… Look,” he said to the demon, “it’s not that I don’t like you. I actually think you’re an okay sort. But tonight’s not the time or place.”

“For what?” Deliverance sounded as if his curiosity was sincere.

“For making a fool of my sister.”

The demon held his index and third finger together over his heart and said, “I won’t. Scouts’ honor,” which would have been reassuring if not for the Grinch-like smile that accompanied the oath.

Harm shook his head and stomped away.

“What’s the matter with him?” Deliverance asked.

“He’s worried that you’re a walking disaster with a countdown already started.”

The demon chuckled. “I could be. But maybe I won’t be. We’ll see how it goes.”

“That makes for a stress-free evening,” she said sarcastically.

“Allow me to remind you that I’m not here by choice.”

“Yes. You are. I changed my mind. Gave you the rest of the weekend off. Remember?”

“Ah, but it was too late. My curiosity had already been aroused.” He said the word ‘aroused’ like a sexy growl.

“Knock it off.”

He smiled from the pleasure of needling her. It was a pleasure that was unique in all his long life. As they walked, he said, “Will there be dancing?”

“Uh, no, we hadn’t planned on dancing.”

“Why not? Isn’t that what witches do? All you need is a token demon to complete the picture. And here I am!” He held his arms straight out from his sides to emphasize the point. “We can all get naked and dance in the moonlight.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“For gods’ sake,” she muttered. “Nobody’s getting naked.” She stopped, faced him, and poked a finger into his shoulder. “That includes you.”

With an exasperated huff, she continued walking. She wanted to rant that he would not spoil her weekend, but she knew that the more she acted like she cared, the more likely he would be to create a catastrophe worthy of The Sorcerer’s Annals. “There will be no dancing.” She did her best to keep emotion out of that proclamation. “Even if some of us were into that sort of thing, it’s damn cold outside.”

He nodded seriously, then brightened. “Cavorting then?”

“You’re driving me crazy.”

“I think maybe that’s a short drive.”

“Just. Stop. Talking.”

Deliverance chuckled. He would rather have taken back the curse than admit that he was having a good time teasing the witch. He couldn’t lose sight of his mission because she was beautiful and good at easy banter.

He was there to find out how to craft a hellish future for the lovely sorceress and he had a feeling that he was going to come by some juicy little morsel of intel during the witchy weekend. He was not here to have fun. On the other hand, if he could make her squirm a little, wondering if he’d behave himself, why not?

The partygoers arrived in a steady stream. The five houseguests, who already felt at home in Sixt’s house, took it upon themselves to help with welcoming and coats.

Sixt had expected that attendees would come dressed to impress, but they managed to exceed expectations. Most wore some sort of dramatic outerwear that incorporated faux fur so perfect it passed for real.

Everyone had chosen to appear as if they were physically in their twenties or very early thirties and everyone was extraordinarily handsome. That included the warlocks. Even Hollywood couldn’t say there was a greater concentration of beautiful people at one of their awards shows. 

There were several couples, but most were single and, like Harm, obviously delighted to have been invited to an opportunity to check out eligible others of their species. Sixt had cast a spell that created name tags when guests stepped over the threshold. The name tags appeared on the wearer’s clothing as functionally seamless and aesthetically pleasing in that the design fit the style, color, and fabric of whatever was being worn. The display gave first names only, which left other details up to the discretion of the individual.

From what Sixt gathered, Deliverance was the least attractive person in attendance. At least that was how he appeared to everyone but her. He was essentially ignored.

The caterers were instructed not to carry trays around, but to keep them, along with small linen napkins within easy reach so that no one would ever be more than a couple of steps away from food. Trays of canapes, charcuterie, petit fours, and all manner of hors d'oeuvres including finger sandwiches and shish kabobs were constantly refreshed so that they were full and supremely appealing to the eye.

One end of the living room featured a full service bar that had been custom built as a recreation of the Goosely Grudge pub in London. The bar was apparently a magnet for the single warlocks because many of them drifted there and clustered, chatting with each other while they checked out other partygoers.

“Your home is delightful.”

Sixt turned to see a brunette, suitably named Raven. Her eyes had immediately drifted downward to the name tag.

“Raven. What a wonderful name. Thank you.” Sixt looked around imagining visiting her house and seeing it for the first time. “When I’m not here I forget how much I like it. I always swear I’m going to come more often. And then I don’t.” She shrugged.

“Well, I hear you’re busy with the corporate life and all.”

“True. What do you do?”

“Architect. I design houses for witches.”

Sixt’s eyes widened. “Wow. I had no idea there was that option. Are there enough witches out there who know about you to keep you busy?”

Raven laughed. “Current waiting list is…” She seemed to be counting. “About five years I think.”

“I’m astonished. My brother and I have more or less been in hiding. For a long time. To tell the truth we weren’t sure there were any others, much less that there were networks and professional services.”

Raven looked genuinely sympathetic. “You poor things.” Sixt saw that she glanced toward Harm and smiled. “Your brother is really…”

“A catch?”

Raven laughed. “That’s one way to put it. So why were you hiding?”

Sixt took a sip of Chardonnay. “We were, um, in Germany during the witch hunt.”

“Gods. You poor things. It must have been really lonely.” She glanced toward Harm. “For both of you.”

Sixt nodded. “We’ve even hid from each other. Until very recently.” With a smile, Sixt said, “My brother pushed for us to, ah, come out.” She smiled. “And I’m so glad we did. It’s gratifying to meet others.”

“Speaking of others.” Raven’s eyes drifted toward where Deliverance stood against a wall, quietly observing. “Is that demon yours?”

She followed Raven’s line of sight. “He doesn’t belong to me.”

“But you brought him.”

“Let’s just say he tagged along.”

“Hmmm. Well, he’s the most ordinary looking demon I’ve ever seen. Still, there’s something about him.” Raven nudged Sixt. “We both know what that something is. Right?” Actually, Sixt had no idea what Raven was talking about. “So, if you don’t have dibs, I’m going to wander over and see if he likes architects.”

Sixt vowed to work on a rewind spell as soon as the weekend was over. She would love to take back having said, ‘He doesn’t belong to me’. It was a thought she could hold in her head and speak with her tongue, but her heart believed that was a lie. Somewhere deep in her core was a part of her that was convinced he did, in fact, belong to her. With all the gorgeous warlocks in the room, the bitch standing in front of Sixt was interested in her demon. Gah!

“Before you go, you have to tell me something about the houses you build. You can’t just drop that bit of intrigue and run off. What is it you do that would be specifically for… us?”

Sixt caught a brief look of disbelief on Raven’s face, but the other witch covered quickly.

“Well, I design a custom environment depending on the client’s particular talents and specialty of practice. You know how the shapes of rooms can direct magic in one way or another, strengthen a particular essence, tamp down an undesirable tendency to twist?” Sixt had no idea of any of that, but she nodded to disguise her ignorance on the subject. “Everything affects the potency of magic. The light, the windows - especially their shape, the materials, like when to use stone or wood and what kinds of stone or wood. Then, of course, I incorporate the elements, so that earth, air, fire, and water have balanced representation in every room. All that. Right?”

Sixt nodded enthusiastically because she was fascinated by the prospect of enhancing magic with environment and would hire Raven on the spot. She was beginning to think Harm’s pushing to bring them out of hiding was a very good idea. Her eyes did a quick scan to locate Harm. He was leaning against the bar laughing at something another warlock said. She felt a surprising rush of affection for her brother and delight that he was having a good time. He deserved it. They both did.

“Right. Is there any way to jump the five-year wait list?”

Raven laughed good-naturedly. “Sure. Friends get priority. See you later.”

“Okay.”

Sixt turned to join the conversation in progress behind her, but found a reason to edge around until she could keep an eye on Deliverance, where he casually leaned against the wall.

Raven sashayed over and leaned her shoulder into the wall next to him. The demon looked down at her. Since he didn’t move his chin, it had the effect of making his eyes look hooded.

As the witch began to talk, he smiled. Sixt was wondering what Raven saw. Whatever he looked like was clearly not enough of a deterrent and she had an urge to turn Raven into a three-toed newt.

His eyes suddenly jerked straight to Sixt’s and locked there, like he’d been able to feel what she was thinking. And that undisguised demon smile traveled upward from the curl of his mouth until it reached his eyes. She shuddered visibly, which made him grin, and made her blush from embarrassment.

She turned to answer a question about restrooms and, when she turned back, Raven and Deliverance were nowhere in sight. Sixt wasn’t going to humiliate herself by chasing them down, no matter how much she might have wanted to.

 

Deliverance lured Raven into the reading room, presumably to show her something. Raven happily accompanied him, thinking that what he would show her was his dick. He encouraged her to try out the nap chair for comfort and, when she did, he disappeared and reappeared in the butler’s pantry, which was bigger than the one at Monticello and better in the sense that it had twenty-first century updates.

He was walking along the long narrow room toward the kitchen when he heard Harm’s voice. Harm was, apparently, talking to another warlock. He had no real reason to believe that anything said between them would be useful, but his demon curiosity was always on the lookout for something of interest. You never knew when a tidbit of information could be used in the negotiation of a future deal.

“Why have a wine closet instead of a wine cellar?” The other warlock was asking.

“Oh, well, my sister would never consider spaces underground.”

“Why?”

“We were in Germany during the witch hunt. At one point my family needed to run and disperse, the theory being that if we separated they wouldn’t get all of us. She was little. Our parents thought she’d be safest if we left her in the cellar and warded it. It was for her own protection. Little kids are not good at pretending to be something they’re not. She wasn’t old enough to defend herself. So…”

After a pause, the other male said, “How long was she there?”

“Eleven days. She never got over it. She won’t go into a tunnel. Can’t stand to be left completely alone. She has to live where she can hear other people.”

“Gods.”

“Here it is,” Harm said. “I saw this the other day. Blackberry whiskey. It should be in the bar, but I guess somebody was hiding it.”

“Hard to hide stuff from us,” the other warlock said.

They left laughing.

 

The demon let that sink in. Sixt was afraid of being alone. That explained why she was anxious to have him stay when Harm wasn’t around.

He could work with that.

 

The open door invitation was well used. The house was full throughout the day so that the caterers were kept busy serving food and drink to small clusters of conversation groups.

Harm was pleased as punch about his new black book of information about bachelorettes. At various times he was seen with this one or that, but it was impossible to tell if he was forming preferences. Certainly none of them had captured him in a love-at-first-sight way.

On the second night, Sixt woke to find Deliverance standing over her bed.

“What?” 

“Nightmare. Again,” he answered with more dispassion than he felt. After learning the probable cause of the night terrors, he wondered if she was dreaming as her little girl self or her mature self.

“Oh,” she said, and fell back to sleep almost immediately. Deliverance watched her for a few more minutes. She looked angelic with her hair spread over the pillow. He caught that thought and wiped a hand over his mouth. He’d never live it down if Kellareal knew he used the term ‘angelic’ in a good way. He hated having charitable thoughts about the witch, but it didn’t matter that she’d been traumatized as a child, that she looked like an angel when she slept, that she needed to be where she could hear others, that part of her poise and powerful demeanor was a thin veneer hiding fear and anxiety.

Deliverance was a powerful demon who could make sure that a witch like Sixt would never be afraid of anything. Ever. If she was his, she never would be. But that sort of speculation had become irrelevant when she cursed him.

 

If she remembered being awakened, she didn’t mention it the next day.

Deliverance used his time at night, since he didn’t sleep, on the computer in the study. Using Graydon’s computer at night and the one in Sixt’s study during the day, he’d become a world class Black Hat and had mastered the human magic of cybertech. He’d enjoyed the challenge, the diversion, and he liked the moniker, Black Hat.

In Aspen his curiosity turned to Sixt’s history. He’d heard her telling others about her salon time in Paris and how she’d help craft fairy tales as the result of her family’s time amidst the magic of the Black Forest.

Pulling together the threads of what he’d learned about the witch, he’d hatched a plan for suitable retribution. The kind that fits like an extremely uncomfortable hair glove.

 

Over the course of the weekend Sixt and Harm benefitted in countless ways. She made connections that might become friendships in time and learned how others had dealt with the question of defense against human crazies. One of the most interesting were three representatives sent as a contingent from a colony in the Texas Hill Country, Wimberley. They had come up with a unique, but effective way of enjoying life openly and being safe at the same time.

They’d become patron benefactors of a small town so that it was utopic. No one was hungry or homeless or without good medical care. The schools were exemplary. The roads were smooth and new. The Bohemian spirit attracted artists and the local economy was thriving.

“I don’t understand how you don’t end up with a 60 Minutes crew ready to expose all of you,” Sixt said.

The one called Wednesday said, “Together we can raise a cone of power sufficient to cast a spell over the entire town. If any of our residents think about communicating to outsiders about our little bit of heaven, their thoughts become cloudy and they forget what they were about to say. We’d love to have you come visit.” She looked across the room toward the bar. “You and your brother.” She leaned toward Sixt. “Those of us who are married chose humans. No warlocks.”

“Really? Why?”

Wednesday shrugged. “I wouldn’t know from personal experience, but I’m told they’re too much trouble.”

Sixt laughed. “Yes. I can see that.”

A world of questions about the operations of magic had been answered for her by people who looked at her with barely disguised pity.

Sixt thought that was a small price to pay for information that could greatly enhance her magical skill. She asked around, in hushed tones, if anybody knew ways to protect oneself from an angry demon.

What she heard repeatedly was, “Best advice is don’t get on the wrong side of one. Look, hon, as far as the hierarchy goes, even the best of us are no match for demons. We’re creatures who use magic. They’re magical creatures.”

When the weekend ended and goodbyes were said all around, Sixt and Harm prepared for the trip to New York. When Sixt closed her suitcase, she looked up to see Deliverance standing in the doorway of her bedroom, arms crossed over his torso.

“We’re going,” she said.

“I figured. Have you decided?”

She didn’t have to ask what he meant. She knew what would be foremost on his mind. Standing up straight, she said, “Yes. When we get back, I’ll terminate the contract in exchange for teaching me how to detect lies in auras.”

“And you will not reinstate the curse.”

“No. I will not.”

“And you will not initiate any new curses.”

“That’s right. I won’t do that either. And you won’t try to get back at me for the curse or the, uh, other contract. No paybacks. You just walk away.”

“Done.”

At that a length of rolled parchment appeared in his hand, tied with a red satin ribbon. He walked toward her slowly, without the characteristic humor she’d come to expect, and handed over the scroll.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“It’s a new contract spelling out what was just agreed, revoking the other.”

She slipped the ribbon away and unrolled the parchment. It was in beautiful, even calligraphy done with such precision it couldn’t have been executed by hand.

“As you see I’ve already signed,” he said. “Look it over on the way home if you want.”

“Alright.”

She rolled it up, slipped the shoulder strap of her bag over her shoulder, and walked toward the door carrying it in her hand. She said nothing more and didn’t look back.

 

On the plane, Harm was animated about the future. He’d made friends. More than that, he’d made plans with other warlocks, and dates with witches. Sixt couldn’t have been happier for him and had to admit that the whole gathering had been, perhaps, the best idea ever.

She’d learned that she’d missed the source education that other witches routinely acquired. It had been interrupted by the witch hunt, and the remnants of the Lichterketten family had never gotten back on track. Until now.

The contrast between pristine Aspen, with its soothing quiet and stark black night skies that made the stars look like close ups of spotlit diamonds, and noisy, close Manhattan struck her in a way it never had before.

“You hungry?”

“I could eat,” Harm answered.

There would be food at the apartment, but for some reason, she wasn’t quite ready to face home. Or Deliverance. She wanted to postpone for a little while.

“Let’s stop by the Camenone.” She looked at her watch. “There’s just time to slide through the door before the kitchen closes. Of course we’ll get the scolding and have to choose between chicken or beef.”

Harm chuckled. “Okay. Don’t ask how it’s prepared or what it comes with.”

Since he’d been in New York they’d developed an appreciation for being abused by the wait staff, who were probably all related, at the neighborhood hole in the wall establishment.

“Don’t worry.”

To their surprise they were treated well even though the door was locked and sign changed to CLOSED as soon as they’d stepped in.

“What are you going to do about the demon?” Harm asked.

“I’m giving him his walking papers. Literally.” She pulled the scroll out of her bag. “When I sign this, he’s bound to teach me the thing about reading lies. When he does, he’s free.”

“Free? As in he can leave?” Harm looked unsure about that, but had another thought. “Would he…?”

“No. But if I can, I’ll teach you later.” Harm seemed satisfied with that.

When Sixt put her key into the penthouse elevator, she was beginning to feel the exhaustion of having organizer and hosting responsibilities for a long weekend topped off by a long trip home.

For the first time, Deliverance made her jump. When she flipped the kitchen switch that turned on all the inner and under cabinet lights, ceiling spots, indirect lighting, and hanging island fixtures, he was calmly sitting at the island.

She registered the slightest remnant of humor on his face when she startled. Without a word, she pulled the scroll from her bag and laid it out on the island holding one end down with the salt grinder, the other with the pepper grinder.

“When you teach me how to read lies, I’ll sign this and we’ll be done. Happy?” Without waiting for an answer, she said, “Good. I’m going to bed.”